Just Keep Swimming
by PoppyJ
Summary: The waves tossed him around like a rag doll, throwing pools of salty water into his mouth as he fought to keep his head above the surface. Pre-Series, as per usual. Sorry!
1. Chapter 1

**Rip currents are one of the few things that scare me, along with The Exorcist and for some reason forest; irrational, but they scare the shit out of me. Worst time was when I went camping on some mountain with a bunch of people who thought it would be comedy gold to hide from me in the middle of the night and leave me on my own for at least an hour, :(.Plus, I know it seems I have a thing about Pre-Series… er, yeah, I do. I will do a current season thing at some point, just waiting for inspiration to strike!**

**Regular updates for my other stuff will start in a week or so when my Easter holidays start, bear with moi! **

**NOTE: I know its likely Sam would be able to swim well by age 11, but for this fic let's pretend he can't.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**Summary: The waves tossed him around like a rag doll, throwing pools of salty water into his mouth as he fought to keep his head above the surface. Pre-Series, as per usual. Sorry!**

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

The setting April sun beat boiling rays down on the crowded, colourful bay, glinting on the waves and dying skin a burning orange, slowly melting ice cream and warming beers. A light breeze swept across the sand, unnoticed by the clusters of people basking in the shallows, the families huddled on blankets, and the surfers catching the final waves before the sun disappeared on the horizon.

Eleven-year-old Sam Winchester watched mournfully as his friends splashed in the sea, their hair matted in salt and skin tinted a blood-orange colour by the vanishing sun. He'd do anything to be with them right now, to dive and swim in the unusually warm water… as frustrated tears threatened he turned and swept the beach for any sign of his brother, who'd tailed a group of girls a few hours ago and left him with a few friends he'd picked up earlier, along with three rules he had to follow in any circumstance.

"_Don't talk to strangers". _Fair enough; common sense really.

"_If your "little buddies" offer you ice cream, take it." _Yeah, trust Dean to think up that one.

It was the third one that Sam had stamped as 'unfair' with a string of curses he'd learned from his own brother.

"_Don't even _think _about going in the water unless I'm here."_

Seriously? As in, _seriously?_ Sure, Sam wasn't the strongest swimmer in the world. He could swim good in lakes and pools, even when his feet weren't touching the bottom as he'd proved during one semester of swimming lessons. But you didn't need _any _lessons to dip your feet in the water and splash a few kids.

"_Sammy, I don't want you near the sea if I'm not with you; you know you can't swim too well, there's a pretty strong rip current around here."_

"_I can swim just fine. Please Dean? I'll only be in the shallow part. C'mon, Timmy's dad will be with us the whole time. I'll be-"_

"_No, I've already told you. I'm not happy leaving you here, but…" he glanced over at his waiting groupies; a crew of bikini-clad, giggling blonde girls smiling and waving Dean over, "but duty calls. I won't be long and we'll go out together, deal? I'll even take you deep; see if we can get you swimming properly in a current."_

"_But Dean-"_

"_Sam, I swear to God, if I catch you even two feet from the water, I'll never bring you again," he warned, rubbing a hand over his head in frustration. Guilt crept through him at his brother's crestfallen face. "Hey, I'm kidding, buddy… Look, give me one hour. One hour, and we'll go swimming. Hell, we'll even borrow some kid's football and play catch or something. Sound good?"_

_Sam looked at Timmy and Ben over his shoulder, biting his lip as they gestured him over. He turned back to Dean, who smiled hopefully at him. He did deserve some time off Sam Duty, after all… He nodded, letting a grin lighten his features as Dean smiled thankfully at him, ruffling his hair and running off towards the girls, feet flicking back sweeps of sand. _

_Sam smiled as he watched; glad he'd been the cause of his brother's happiness for a change. _

_Besides, it was only one hour. _

Four hours and thirty two minutes had passed since Dean had left him – he'd been counting the minutes until his big brother would come back on Timmy's Superman watch. He held it now in both hands as he sat on the rock pools where Dean had left him, praying he'd be back before dark.

He glanced up when two figures raced towards him, swimming trunks dripping with water and smiles plastering both faces.

"Sam, you gotta come in the water, man!" panted Ben, cheeks painted red with sunburn, "it's so _warm."_

Sam sighed, squinting up at both boys. "I'm not allowed."

Timmy groaned, nodding at Ben to grab Sam's arm as they pulled him to his feet. "C'mon, Sam, we're not going actually into the water, just up to our knees," he assured, bright eyes swimming with excitement.

"I promised my brother, guys," he said softly, disappointment growing at the saddened look in both boys' eyes. "Hey, why don't we play-"

"Look, Sam," interrupted Ben, "can you see Dean anywhere?"

Sam hesitated before looking around, not liking wherever Ben was going with this. Anything to do with his family was rocky territory to tread into; Dean was a whole different matter.

He shook his head. "No, not right now."

"So, what makes you think he can see you? " Timmy finished, eyes boring into Sam's.

Sam considered this; the thought of even dipping his toes into the water was a tempting one, but he'd promised Dean. "I can't. Sorry." He slumped back down into the sand, arms crossed as he tried to look away from the two boys in front of him.

Timmy sighed, the thirteen-year-old crossing his arms. "Sam, we've spent all day with your ass. Please come in, we'll teach you how to swim-"

"I can swim," mumbled Sam.

"Well, come _on _then!" Ben begged, pulling his arm again in an attempt to drag him down the sand. Timmy pulled at the other, ignoring the younger boy's protests as he was forced down towards the sea.

"Guys, please don't. Let me –"

Timmy laughed, unaware how serious Sam was. "Don't worry, Sam. My dad's there anyway, I've told you…"

Sam squirmed harder as they reached the water, the warm waves lapping at his toes. Some parents watched with amusement, assuming two friends were pranking the other, as if tossing a kid who didn't look much older than eleven into the choppy ocean was funny.

Ben, the biggest of the three, tugged Sam into his arms, wading to his knees before tossing the writhing boy beneath the waves.

Sam froze underwater, limbs eagle-spread as he relished the weightless, floating feeling. He'd never felt so… so _free. _Man, the sea was cool!

He sunk to the sand at the bottom, grabbing a fistful before standing in the shallow water, slowly searching for his target. Ben was doubled over in laughter, eyes streaming with tears as he imitated Sam's expression as he'd been rolled into the water. "Man… your face!" he yelped gleefully.

"Dude, you're an _ass!" _he yelled, tossing his loaded handful into Ben's curls.

Ben immediately stopped laughing, rising slowly as he tugged a hand through his hair. He glanced at Sam, grin breaking out on his face. "Says the one who refused to even touch the water all afternoon!" he laughed, dipping a hand into the sea and pulling his own handful of sand from the bottom, tossing it at Timmy who gleefully took on his friend.

Sam's own grin faded as he realized he had broken his promise to Dean… _He'll understand. I'm sure. Won't he? _He sunk back into the waves, unaware how quickly they were growing, treading water with his hands as he lounged in the warm sun, closing his eyes and sighing in content. _I'll be out before Dean gets back anyway… just relax, Sam. _

No one noticed the young boy slowly sweep across the length of the bay, their attention caught by the lifeguard's warning to clear the beach for the night. No one noticed either the young boy slowly advance towards the rip tide cutting the bay in half, his figure blotted by the rising waves and disappearing sun.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Dean Winchester poked his head out of the small shelf of rocks he'd been hiding beneath, checking the coast was clear before stepping back onto the main beach.

"Can you see my parents?" asked a small voice behind him, a thin hand wrapping around his wrist as he ignored her. "Dean? Can you see them?"

He sighed, glancing around the beach half-heartedly. He needed to get to Sam- surely it hadn't gotten that late? "Sweetheart, I gotta get to my brother; looks like they're all packing up," he whispered, pulling an arm around her bare, tiny waist as she pouted at his coldness. "Have you got a shirt or something? You must be freezing," he cooed – one thing he'd learned was to never, _ever _treat a woman like crap. Ever.

She smiled sweetly at him, white teeth gleaming in the – setting? - sun. "Baby, I don't do clingy," she announced, kissing him on the cheek and running off into the small stream of people leaving the beach, leaving Dean reeling in her sudden departure.

So… that's how it feels to be rejected? Huh.

He frowned, clicking his tongue as he focused on his next task. _Find Sam. _

He hadn't wanted to leave him. Every instinct had called him back to the rock pools where he'd left Sam. But they'd been stuck with each other for six days whilst Dad was on a hunt; they both deserved some time apart.

But man, it felt wrong. One hour had passed and he'd set off in search of his brother, only to be pulled back by the hottest girl he'd met. So far.

One hour had somehow turned into… well, allot judging by how low the sun was sinking into the horizon. And Sam had been alone the whole damn time.

"Shit," he mumbled, pacing across the quickly cooling sand in the general direction of where Sam should be. The kid was gonna be fuming. And sunburned. _Boy, _was he gonna be sunburned.

It took him a few minutes to reach the rock pools, weaving through tired families and intimate couples.

Bile rose in his throat as he scanned the empty area, seeing only their ragged towels and his own wallet poking out from beneath one corner of the material, coated in sand.

No Sam.

He spun on his heel, wide eyes searching the immediate area. "Sam?" he called, searching each floppy haired, doe-eyed kid he saw – which apparently was a lot in California – panic beginning to tremble through him. "Sammy! Come on, joke's over!"

A few turned to look at him briefly, sending compassionate glances before taking off for the car park.

_We know how it feels to lose your kid._

Dean pounced on the nearest couple, eyes wide, stance feral. God damn anyone who thought he'd lost Sammy.

"Have you seen my little brother? About this high" – he gestured with one hand – "long dark hair, kinda lost-puppy look on him?"

The woman shrugged. "Sorry."

He sighed exasperatedly, eyes falling back onto where he'd last seen his brother, as if he could magically conjure him from thin air. He scanned the shallow waters, briefly, wondering if Sam may have got bored of waiting and leapt into the sea with his friends… _Fuck._

He moved onto a family of four, the kids hiding behind their mother as the Scary Looking Man turned on them, repeating his questions over and over. The boy of the four peeked around his father, narrowing his eyes, his scared his expression still readable in what little light the sun still supplied.

"You're talking about Sam?" he asked quietly, fear taking over as he stared into the worried eyes of his friend's older brother.

Dean snapped his attention to the boy, quickly kneeling in the sand in front of him. "Yeah, I'm his brother. Dean. Where did Sammy go?" he asked.

The kid shuffled nervously foot to foot, his family's gaze now falling on him too.

"Sam?" asked his dad, eyeing him with suspicion. "Was that the boy you and Ben threw in to the water?"

Dean stared in horror at the father, bile rising in his throat as he processed the words. _No. No. God damn it, no!_

"I forgot about him, Dad. Me and Ben kinda got distracted-"

Dean gripped the kid's shoulders. "Where did you last see him? Huh?"

Timmy stared fearfully into his eyes, trembling in the man's grip as he pointed weakly to a random point in the ocean. "There. Just there."

"When?"

"We dragged him in about fifteen minutes ago –"

Dean quickly stood, the whole family eyeing him worriedly as he turned his focus to the sea.

_Tide going out. Current heading east… wind's too strong. He'll have drifted pretty fucking far by now…_

He jogged to the edge of the water, never taking his eyes off the ocean as he tried to calculate where his brother should be. He rested his eyes on the centre of the bay, where a narrow section of water was flat, almost perfect.

A rip current.

And there, barely visible as the sun threatened to dip behind the horizon, was a frantic splashing, a bobbing head, and a familiar, muffled yelling tore through the strengthening wind.

Dean gaped at the sight, freezing where he stood as he watched his baby brother being swept out to the open sea.

"SAM!"

oOoOoOoOoOo

The only thought that ran through his head as he bobbed in the vicious, merciless waves, tired arms ripping at the water that blanketed him, salt water stinging his throat and nose and eyes, was that he wanted Dean.

Despite the last six days of endless pranking, non-stop arguing and general discomfort between the pair of them, all he wanted was his big brother to save him from this floating mess.

"Dean," he spluttered as his head vanished beneath another wave, sucking precious oxygen as the water threatened to envelope him again. He kicked with weak legs, watching in horror as the beach emptied slowly, its inhabitants trickling as the sun dipped in the sky. "Dean!"

The waves tossed him around like a rag doll, throwing pools of salty water into his mouth as he fought to keep his head above the surface, aimlessly surging across the ocean. He dipped beneath the waves as he fought lethargy. _Focus Sam. Get back up, try and get help. _He reappeared, hiss view changed suddenly to a flat, calm section of sea, free of waves.

The naïve side of him hoped it was a settled part of the bay, that this particular narrow path had been flattened so he could paddle back to shore, curl up into his towel and let Dean say "I Told You So" as many times as he liked.

The educated part of him told him he was being dragged into open sea by a rip current.

The temperature of the sea must have dropped suddenly, or realization had a cold side, but his whole body felt like he'd been dropped in ice; no one knew he was in the water. He was going to drown.

"Dean? Dean, help me!" he croaked, kicking fiercely towards shore, "Dean!"

oOoOoOoOoOo

Dean sprinted into the water, panic overcoming all common sense as he leapt into a front crawl, ignoring the desperate cries from onlookers on the shore.

All he saw was Sam's bobbing head, heard his begging cries…

He kicked harder, ignoring the pangs of guilt that struck him as he slid through the water, shuddering as the temperature dropped the deeper he went. He stopped momentarily, shaking the water from his head as he bobbed his head above the water.

"Sam!" he called, scoping the surface for any sign.

Growling as only the dark sea greeted him, now coupled with a darkening sky, he aimed towards the rip current, arms already growing tired as he fought the waves. He stopped every few feet, treading water for a few seconds as he scoured the water around him, hoping, praying he'd see his brother's fanned mop of hair, or hear him call his big brother's name.

He broke into the channel of fast flowing water with one last push of any strength he had left, the cool water zapping any reserves he held as he tried to stay moving, keeping the blood flowing in his body. "C'mon, Sammy, where are you?" he yelled, voice cracking as exhaustion claimed him. "Sam!"

He held his breath as the wind picked up, whistling past him as the current aimed to wrench him from the protection of the bay. God knows if Sam was out there yet… images of Sam flailing blindly in the open Pacific propelled Dean forward and quickened his search as he surged further into the open.

"Sam!" he yelled again, "please, buddy, where are you?"

He held his breath again.

Silence.

He choked out a sob; hopelessness threatening as he slowed the frantic swimming pace, allowing himself to be swept with the current into God knows what.

His ears pricked as he heard a hacking cough, a rattling breathing and a muffled croak in order – there in the distance, Sam's bobbing head, eyes locking with Dean's before a wave cut him from view. "Sam!" Dean called, eyes wide as he waited for the wave to pass.

But Sam was gone, disappeared with along with the sun as they both sunk beneath the ocean.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Sam allowed his tired body to be pulled into the rip current, his mind telling him to give in. He watched as both peninsulas on either side of the bay began to rapidly shrink as he was pulled further away.

Christ, he was so _tired. _

He was cold, and wet, and achy, and all he wanted was Dean and a shower and bed. His arms ached, his legs hurt, his head had never felt so heavy. Why was that? Why were heads so heavy?

_Focus, Sam!_

Focus on what, though? On how he was going to die? If he was about to drown, he'd rather be concentrating on the weight of his head than his entire body swallowed by a vicious, angry sea, thank you very much.

He lay back, finally relaxing with the flow, his body slowly sinking beneath the surface.

"Sam!" he heard.

"I've done my homework, Dean, how 'bout you do yours?" he mumbled to the sky.

"Please, buddy, where are you?"

He snapped back to reality, quickly hauling his body upright as he heard a familiar voice trail off.

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be greeted by another mouthful of seawater, forcing another painful coughing fit as he cleared his lungs.

Wait, a wave? That meant… shit.

He looked up, meeting Dean's eyes for the first time in five hours, realization hitting them both.

Sam had broken free from the rip current, into open water.

Then a wave crashed over him, filling his lungs with more water and pushing his tired body beneath the surface; and in all the exhaustion, his world went black.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Sooo, a one-shot kind of ended up being a two – shot…**

**As you can tell, my knowledge of currents and that is very limited (I should know, I do quite a bit of watersports; but I skipped that part, ;)) sorry about that!**

**Sorry if they're a little OOC, my bad.**

**Reviews make me smile, especially at the moment with the bloody studying I've got going on. + they keep me writing!**

**Will update tomorrow hopefully, muchos love! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry its taken so unbelievably long to update; looong week.**

**Disclaimer: not mine**

**Thanks for the lovely response to this! **

**oOoOoOoOoOo **

Dean stared in horror at the spot where his brother had vanished, heart stopping momentarily as he choked out his name. "S-Sam," he croaked, batting furiously at the waves as he propelled himself forward, "Sam!"

Diving under the water, he groped blindly at the darkness, pushing himself into the black, calm beneath the waves. His lungs burned as they screamed for air, forcing Dean back up to the surface, swallowing air fiercely as he spun around. "Sammy?" he roared, plunging again into the weightless black.

He pushed himself deeper this time until he could feel the crackling pressure in his ears, limbs flailing as he tried to come into contact with something, _anything _that resembled his little brother.

He sobbed into his salty surroundings, the desperate alarm for air echoing in his brain along with the horrific images of his brother, his Sammy, floating aimlessly in the deep, eyes wide and unseeing, lungs empty of air, limbs hanging above his body as he sunk to the sandy bottom…

Dean kicked to the surface, dragging in another ragged breath before diving back in… God damn _anyone _who thought he was going to lose Sam, even if his own mind was screaming failure.

He wandered aimlessly through the watery darkness, lungs aching, eyes stinging, muscles begging for a rest when his hand brushed against something long and wavy.

Was that… Was that Sam's hair?

Of course it was. All the years of rinsing the shampoo from his hair in the bath, the years carding the fever soaked bangs from his face, the years of accidentally catching it in the swimming pools when they raced underwater.

It was Sammy.

He plunged his hand back in that direction, fingers cramping as he stretched them as far as his muscles would allow, and there it was again.

He grasped a handful of the stuff, pulling it closer towards him as he squinted through burning eyes at the figure he'd dragged towards him.

And there, now in his arms, was a pale, thin, skinny kid, his hair pulled taut from his scalp, eyes squeezed shut, and worst of all, no bubbles emitting from his nose or mouth. Dean gently placed two fingers on his neck, almost relenting to the black spots that were clouding his vision.

Snaking an arm under his brothers' armpits, Dean raced for the surface, following the slender slice of moonlight that rippled above him. His lungs screamed for air, his muscles seizing as they were forced to work harder.

_Come on, Dean, _he ordered himself, holding the precious load closer to him as he ached to give up, _for Sammy. _

His fingertips finally breaking the waterline, the cool wind pulled him from his catatonia as it gusted against his skin. He ripped at the final stretch of water, gulping for air as he tugged Sam up with him, attention immediately falling to him as his brother failed to follow suit.

"Sam! God damn it, breathe!" he yelled, shaking his brother as much as he dared. To afraid to release his grip on him, he tilted Sam's head onto his own shoulder and covered his mouth with one hand, breathing into his nose to clear the airways of water.

Seconds passed.

The waves continued to toss them around like corks, but _Sam wouldn't breathe. _

"Please, Sammy, c'mon," he begged.

Suddenly, a flood of water flowed from Sam's mouth, Dean quickly tilting him as the kid desperately pulled in air.

"Good boy, Sam," he whispered, barely audible over the thundering water. He pounded his back, still keeping a tight grip around him as the waves threatened to pull him from his grasp. "y'hurt anywhere else? What pulled you under?"

"N-no," he shuddered, sighing as Dean pulled him closer, "jus-st a lit-t-tle cold. I dunno… Just so _tired."_

Dean smiled in relief, allowing a few moments to revel in the fact Sam was alive, was breathing, as he kicked gently to keep afloat.

"That's what happens when you try an' swim in the Pacific in April, you idiot."

Sam's head bowed in shame, soaked bangs stuck to his head. "Ben n' Timmy said it w-was w-warm."

"Yeah? Well, imma be having some words with them when we get outta here," Dean promised, anger forcing another shot of adrenaline to stream through him. He gripped his brother tighter as the kid's head head lolled forward. "You with me, Sammy?"

"Jus' t-tired."

"Just tired, just cold," muttered Dean, pivoting as he tried to get his bearings.

He calculated they hadn't drifted too much, caught in the crossfire between the rip current and the incoming, western headed waves. Knowing rip currents work in circular motion, both sections on either side of the current should be heading towards the shore, so the best idea would be to ride that in, or until a rescue crew found them… If anyone had bothered to call them a rescue crew. He didn't even know if he had enough energy to tow Sam that far, especially with the battling waves they were stuck in.

"Don't worry, Sammy," he called, shifting onto his back and pulling his brother onto his chest, "I'll get ya outta here. Then we're gonna have a _long _talk about listening to exactly what I say, when I say it."

Sam snorted, head falling next to Dean's neck. "W-what ab-ab-b-out some swimming-g le-lessons?"

The older brother smiled, choosing a course of stars to follow as he navigated blindly through the sea. "That too."

He submerged his ears under water, hoping he had a better chance of hearing the advancing motor of their rescue crew should it come this way.

God, he hoped someone was coming.

oOoOoOoOo

It felt like hours.

Sam was shivering violently in his arms, screaming in pain as cramps attacked his muscles, writhing in his big brother's grip only tightened around him.

It felt like they'd gotten nowhere.

Dean continued to kick, legs feeling like lead cannons as he fought to keep both of them above the surface.

And he was so _cold. _

The waves crashed over them, shocking them both awake again as sleep beckoned them closer.

But it was so damn _cold. _

Sam bucked again, screams tearing across the rushing water. He clawed at Dean's arm, fingernails digging in harshly as he sought to stretch his cramping muscles.

Dean grit his teeth as he kept his unbreakable hold, brow furrowing as he pulled them both into an upright position, bobbing like seals in the black ocean.

"Dean," Sam sobbed, head flailing as pain tore through him, "i-it hurts s-s-so bad."

The eldest winced as his brother screamed again, back arching as he scrunched his legs closer to his chest. "I'm s-sorry Sa-Sammy, I'll g-get us out-ta here, an-and I'll b-buy you some s-salt and w-we'll g-get rid of th-them c-cramps, bud-buddy."

Sam frowned. "Tha-that makes n-no s-s-sense."

Dean considered this, then shrugged, shoveling handfuls of water into his face to force him awake. "I alway-always make sense, l-little broth-ther."

They waited out Sam's spurt of cramps, Dean whispering assurances into his ear as they fought the waves.

Neither brother noticed the incoming tomb of rocks until it was too late.

Dean pulled his gaze from his brother momentarily, eyes widening in horror as they were thrown closer, Sam's back exposed to the jagged juts of sharp rocks protruding into the sea. "Shit!" he bellowed, trying to turn them both around so he was between the stony knives and his brother.

But nothing ever goes to plan.

A long arm of bumpy, jagged rock scraped into Sam's arm before Dean could keep the brunt of the damage to his own back, groaning along with his brother as the salt burned the freshly cut wounds.

"Y'okay?" Dean asked urgently, pushing against any rock shelf he could find beneath his feet to push them from harm's way.

"D-dean… D-dean, th-the r-rock-cks," Sam mumbled, grimacing as he held a hand to his shredded arm.

"I s-saw them too-too, Sam."

With a last push of strength, Sam yelled, "G-get us on th-the rocks, De-Dean!"

Dean sluggishly pulled his head up from Sam's neck and turned slowly to where his brother faced. A surge of hope shot through him and he reached a lazy arm out, latching onto the nearest protruding rock he came across. Tugging himself and his brother through the calmer waves, he led them into a tiny cove where the rock pools had softened a little so they were flat. He finally came into contact with the smoother surface, and pushed Sam in front of him, apologizing profusely when he grazed the kid's arm on something or other. He raised him onto the rock shelf, shifting him over like a slippery fish before clambering on himself.

The first thing that hit him was exhaustion. He lay back onto the ledge as his eyelids fluttered shut, his breathing heavy.

The cold followed shortly after. His attention was wrenched back as Sam groaned in pain next to him, the kid's legs pulled up to his chest as ripples of pain shuddered through his body.

_Fucking cramp._

"Sammy," he grumbled, pushing himself closer to him as an icy wind whipped around their heads, despite the small protection of the cove in the rocks. He threw an arm across him and rubbed the cramping leg with his knuckles, slowing as the kid relaxed under his touch, "you okay now?"

Sam nodded, keeping curled up still. "Thirsty," his voice cracked.

"Water, water, everywhere," Dean mumbled, slowly sitting up. He pulled at Sam, tutting as his brother protested. "I need to get a look at your arm, Sam. Please," he begged.

Sam obviously the desperate edge to his older brother's voice, squinting up at him before nodding, loosening his tense body. "Cold." He stated as his brother pulled him onto his lap.

"Very," agreed Dean, brow furrowing as he prodded the bleeding wounds on Sam's arm. Stretching from his shoulder to his elbow, jagged and deep, they wouldn't kill the kid; but the last thing they needed right now was the beginning of an infection. He ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of his soaked t-shirt and wrapped it around his arm, hoping the salt would keep it as clean as possible for now at least.

Another whirl of wind swirled at them, causing both to shiver violently again.

God, he hoped someone was coming.

"Dean?" crackled Sam, leaning into his brother's chest, not refusing the arms that were wrapped around him, "we gonna die?"

Dean grimaced as the kid raised his sad face up, pulling Sam's head beneath his chin. "Hell, no. The boat will come, and we'll go home, and we'll watch all the cartoon there are for a whole month, just sit around on the couch under a hundred blankets with hot chocolate and marshmallows," gushed Dean, rubbing Sam's shuddering back with one hand.

Sam chuckled dryly. "Melty marshmallows."

Dean smiled to himself, shuffling awkwardly to rest his back on the rocks. "Yep. And we'll have takeouts every night, and you can have a hot bath every fucking hour if you want, and we'll sleep with the heating on."

"And live in c-california," he stuttered into Dean's shirt.

"We'll live in the freakin' Sahara. No God damn water to suck us up." Dean almost vomited at the memory of Sam being tugged under the waves not – how long had it been? – a few hours ago. "Sammy?"

"Mmm?"

"Why'd you go under before?" he slurred, the prospect of creating a sentence seemingly painful as his head throbbed with exhaustion.

"Told you alre-already."

"Oh yeah."

"D-Dean-n?" whispered Sam, shuddering as cold wrapped itself around him.

Dean curled himself around his brother, seeking his own source of heat as the wind circled in the tiny cove. "'M r-right he-here."

"I d-d-don't like th-the ocean,"

Dean smiled sadly, planting a dry kiss on the crown of Sam's head, tightening his grip around his waist. He leaned his head back against the rocks, hoping, praying help was on its way.

Please, God, let help be on its way.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It could have been seconds later. Or minutes. Or hours, or days.

But Dean knew Sam had given up. Sam was dying in the middle of some damn rock pools in some damn town in freezing damn weather with no damn rescue boats anywhere to seen.

His breathing had shallowed, his grip on his brother's arm had loosened, he'd stopped shivering. He was awake, but not aware of Dean shaking him desperately in his arms.

"Sam? Sam! God damn it, Sammy, you're not fucking leaving me now."

His eyes went glassy. His lips went blue. His breath came out in short, shallow puffs.

Dean laid the kid on his back, slapping his cheeks as the lights seemed to switch off.

"Hey, hey, c'mon now, Sam. Stay with me," he rasped, his throat clogging as his dying brother's eyes stared into his own, "please, kid. Don't do this."

He'd stopped shivering. _He'd stopped fucking shivering. _

Dean pulled Sam into his chest, rocking him in time with the lapping waves. "You listen to me, little brother. Sam. Sam!"

The rise and fall of Sam's chest came to a halt. Dean felt it one final time, and it stopped.

He wasn't breathing.

"Sam!"

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Please review! It's nice to know you lovely people do appreciate the amount of blood, sweat and tears go into every fic out there- do something good, make a writer happy today! ;)**

**See you soon, **

**Muchos love. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, I thought it was about time I came out of hibernation. **

**How are you all? It's got to be said, I've missed you all very, very much. It's been too long since my iPod or my phone pinged with an email from you lovely bunch. **

**And to everyone who has been waiting for this, may I present to you, an update! (finally.)**

**Disclaimer: As per usual, I own nothing. Probably not even the plot considering how many fics there are out there. But, I am only a lemming. Man, I need to sleep. **

**Chapter numero trois! **

**oOoOoOoOo**

"Sam?" whispered Dean, sluggishly shaking his limp, pale brother in his arms, Sam's head lolling like a puppet. "Sam!'

For a moment, he could only stare down at the icy bundle in his arms, the gaping mouth, the empty, dark eyes that stared up at the stars.

Sam was dead. Died. Gone. Passed.

Seconds passed as he gave his brother a chance to crack a smile, laugh at Dean's sickened expression, then talk some more about the fucking melty marshmallows.

Nothing.

His training kicked in as he slowly placed a hand to Sam's neck, hoping, begging, praying for a pulse. Still slow in his own movements, overcome by cold, pain and shock as he held his own breath.

And there it was.

The emptiness beneath his fingers seemed to spark a new energy. Something clicked within him, and he wriggled from beneath Sam's sagged body, laying him gently onto the smooth rocks.

"God damn you if you leave me tonight, Sammy," he grimaced, pinching the tiny nose between his thumb and finger, gently tilting his head back before delivering two rescue breaths, quickly moving his hands to his brother's chest as he started compressions.

One, two, three, four… all the way to thirty before he leaned back down to his brother's mouth, pushing back any emotions that tried to break through his hunter streak.

One. Two.

Still nothing.

Exhausted, Dean threw his heavy arms back to Sam's chest, barely noticing the distant flash of a torch, or the hum of a lifeboat motor, or the searching cries of a rescue team.

"Sammy, c'mon!" he ordered.

Nothing. One, two, three, four, five chest compressions.

"I'll buy you a Goddamn bike, or a book…" he bargained.

Nothing. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, chest compressions.

"I swear t' God, Sam, if you don't wake up by twenty I'll burn every school book you own," he threatened, movements slowing as his body began to falter against the elements, the pain, the tiredness that filled him to the brim.

Nothing. Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty…

Dean let out a strangled cry as a bright light illuminated Sam's pale face, his dead eyes reflecting like a still pond.

"_Please, _Sam," he begged, allowing his hands to slip to rest either side of his kid brother's limp body, searching the face for any sign of life.

And almost as if Sam had heard Dean's words, he dragged in a long, pained breath, coughing as the cold air sliced at his raw throat, searching the sky for anything to latch onto.

"Sam? Sam! You with me, buddy?" Dean's voice cracked as he gripped the kid's arms, shaking him to awareness as a new sound broke through the endless wind; voices.

"D-Dean?" Sam croaked, squinting as the light brushed across his eyes again.

Dean nodded, mouth splitting between a smile and a grimace. "Jesus, Sam-"

"Hello?" came a strange voice from behind them, "is anyone out here?"

Dean frowned as he turned his head slightly, catching the eye of the flashlight wielding… thing that seemed so intent on blinding them both.

"Boys? Are you down there?" came the same voice.

Dean turned back to his brother, who he still had in a tight grip, and smiled. "We're okay," he promised, before collapsing onto the rocks beside Sam, one arm stretched across the younger boy's heaving chest.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Dean, p-p-please get-t D-Dean…"

"C'mon Sammy, sweetie, calm down. Your brother is fine; he's just there. Now, we gotta get you set, then get you to hospital…"

"I'm fine, I'm fine, please, just help m'brother!"

Dean sluggishly opened his eyes, blinking a few times as they refused to give him a clear picture of his surroundings. His head throbbed mercilessly, every sound swirling around his brain and echoing a hundred times louder each time, the bright lights stabbing his senses. He felt something tied tight around his mouth and reached up an arm to drag it off, surprised to find an oxygen mask covering his face. Drunkenly, he pawed it down to his neck, wincing as the movement tugged at something on his back.

"S-Sammy?" he drawled, twisting his neck as he tried to recognize where he was. "Sssam? Where y'at?"

There was a rustle of movement beside him as a strange shape hovered above him, blocking his view of the roof. _Roof of what..?_

"Welcome back, Dean," said a male voice, shining a bright light in his eyes.

"M'brother," mumbled the older Winchester as he tried to prop himself up onto his elbows, swaying as his head whirled in tornados and squinting in the harsh light.

"Hey there, champ, you lay right back down. Sam's fine, he's okay. He's right next to you- Woah, don't move your head, I need to get a brace on ya'," the man blabbered, pulling Dean back down onto the… whatever he was on, and forcing the mask onto his face.

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance, blinking furiously as he begged for his vision to clear. Eventually, he was able to make out the ceiling of an ambulance, the back windows wide open and letting in one bitch of a draught from the sea.

The sea. Sam, drowning. The rocks. Sam not breathing…

Dean groaned again as he pulled at the mask.

"Dean, c'mon, buddy, work with me here," grumbled the paramedic, guiding the mask back to the boy's face again as he tried to still any movement with one hand. "Dean!"

"D-Dean?"

The older brother stilled immediately, searching for the source of the quiet voice. He turned his head slightly to his left and saw his frail Sammy look back at him, eyes dark and wide, his arm being treated by a tiny, black haired paramedic treat his injured arm.

Dean's own paramedic yelled something in Doctor-Speak and the ambulance doors were suddenly slammed shut, the sirens wailing and the truck slowly moving away. The boy welcomed the distraction as he pulled off his mask again. "You're okay?"

Sam smiled slightly. "P-put your frea-freaking mask back on, W-Winchester," he mumbled, sagging back into his table as the mask was fitted around his face, seemingly out of breath.

Dean stifled a laugh as he assessed Sam's injuries, ignoring the pull at his own forgotten wounds on his back and the ceaseless thump in his head.

Bruises and cuts, that was all. But man, the kid looked like shit.

"Hey lady," called Dean weakly, "he needs a blanket. Keep him warm. He st-stopped breathing for a while to-too. And he's all c-cut…"

The female paramedic smiled, briefly lifting her soft eyes from her own patient. "He's okay.

The man sighed in frustration as he saw Dean once again maskless. "Damn it, kid!" he growled, stepping back towards his head from the driver's window. He pushed a barely conscious Dean back onto the gurney, pulling the neck brace in place.

"Why the hell do I need a fucking neck brace anyways?" demanded the older brother weakly before the mask was pressed onto his face again, "m'brother dn't h've one!"

The male paramedic sighed as he filled a syringe with clear liquid.

"'Cause your brother's behaving," he joked, pushing the needle into Dean's arm and pressing down the plunger.

And not a second too soon, Dean's thumping head and burning back disappeared as he was enveloped into sleep.

**oOoOoOoOo**

**Short, I know, and ridiculously so, wanted to contribute something; but one more to go! **

**Other stories will be updated soon as possible. Waiting for a suitable term where substantial amounts of procrastination are needed.**

**Thanks for sticking with it. **

**Poppy. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Final chapter, **

**An update in just over a week; not so bad, ;) **

**Disclaimer: If I owned them, they'd be doing a lot less hunting and more… erm… I don't own them, 'kay? **

**oOoOoOoOoOo **

For the second time in... well, for the second time, Dean blinked groggily through the haze of white that muffled his vision, blinking blearily as another blank, bright ceiling hung above him. He dug through his mind, picking at fuzzy memories as he tried to pinpoint his location, situation and surroundings. He squinted to his left, drinking in the numerous monitors and screens that bleeped monotonously next to him, flashing numbers and squiggly lines that seemed determined to confuse his vision. Turning gently to his left, a drip stood tall by a railing, which told him all he needed to know.

Hospital.

He groaned as he glanced down his body, clad in a gown and a thin blue blanket, and used all his might to pull himself up into a sitting position. Blinking a few times as his head spun, he fell back onto his hands and breathed deeply-

_Freakin' oxygen masks with their freakin' drugs and… and freakin' oxygen._

He tore it immediately off his face, scowling at the object which he held accusingly. Tossing it to one side of the bed, he swung his legs over, wincing as the movement tugged at his back. He jostled his memories once again as he tried to search for the source of his pain, throwing his head over his shoulder as he sought the injury.

Suddenly, the door to his room burst open, revealing a blonde, pigtailed, bubblegum-pink nurse who smiled scarily at Dean. "Well," she grinned, her eyes shrinking to dark slits as her chubby cheeks were pushed up her face, "I see the cutest patient on the block is finally awake."

He smiled weakly, rather stunned by her cliché appearance. Christ, she even had a lollipop in her scrubs pocket, next to a furry pen and pink-handled scissors. "Uh…"

She giggled, almost skipping over to his side. "Now then, let's get you back into bed, huh sweetie?" she leaned over to pull his legs back up, pristine white trainers squeaking on the tiled floor.

"I gotta…"

"Oh, you gotta pee? Sure, I'll help ya'. Guess the pain stuff's still workin'," she said, grinning again as Dean flushed red.

"No! No, I gotta go. I need to get back to my kid brother," he mumbled. Damn, whatever medication he'd been inhaling sure was screwing with his head.

She giggled again, nose scrunching as she shook her head. "Don't be silly. You're staying right here until your infection clears up, hun'. I'm sure your brother will come in with your mom or dad during visiting hours."

He shook his head, gently shaking her off his legs as she once again attempted to force him back into bed. "No. No no no no no, my brother, he's… I think he's in hospital too," he said. _What the hell have they given me?_

The nurse frowned. She reached for the clipboard that hung on his bed, chewing her bottom lip as she ran her long finger down the thin sheet of paper. "Winchester, Dean. Admitted April twelfth, around ten p.m, lacerations on upper back and right upper arm..." she paused, mouth falling to a little 'o' as she peeked over the edge of the clipboard. "You're _Dean? _Sam's Dean?"

Dean straightened as she said his brother's name, eyes searching her face for any clue to Sam's whereabouts. "He's here?"

She nodded, her naivety suddenly dulled; her pigtails a little less curly, her scrubbed face suddenly aged, her bubblegum-pink appearance suddenly forgotten. She coughed. "Yeah, he was admitted same time as you."

Dean's mind began racing as all possibilities swept by him. He gripped the bed railing next to him. "He's okay? Sam's okay?"

She observed him for a few moments, picking up on his tense shoulders, hard expression, his glowering eyes and swallowed before she spoke. "He's improving. Had a rough few hours last night, but he's doing better."

Dean huffed in relief, smiling gratefully at her. "Thank God."

She grinned back again, relaxing suddenly, pink lips sliding over her white teeth. "Have you got a relative I can call? Your mom, dad, anyone nearby?"

His heart skipped a beat. "Uh, I'm eighteen. I'll deal with Sammy."

She frowned again, raising her eyebrows slightly. "Oh, really? Got some I.D. on ya'?"

He sighed impatiently, heart racing as he stepped off the bed and squared in front of the nurse, trying to look as tall, as broad as possible. "Right now, I'm in a backless hospital gown. Now, how about you go and get some of those form things so I can sign out, show me to my brother's room and give me some underwear?"

She stood stock still, still apparently undeterred by his attempted intimidation. She took a step forward, searching Dean's face with made-up eyes. "Listen, kid," she said softly, "I may be blonde, but I'm not stupid. Dean Winchester, born in Lawrence, Kansas, January the twenty-seventh, nineteen-seventy-nine. So, if I'm right, makes you sixteen? Admitted in '83 for smoke inhalation, and then a clean record until now, correct?"

Dean gaped at the seemingly harmless girl in front of him, her hands on her hips, her eyes victorious. "Uh…"

"What I also know is that this isn't the second time you've been in a hospital, is it? The scarring to your chest and stomach, a gunshot wound and an arm-cast sun tan show you've been here a few times; which also tells me you've run at least one insurance scam in the past."

_Jesus, who is this? _"Look, lady…"

"What I also know," she interrupted, taking a step back, "Is that your eleven year old brother has been begging for you for the whole time he's been awake, and the few times you've been conscious all you've said is his name… which was pretty damn freaky, I'll tell you that," she giggled.

Dean smiled, heart slowing down a few beats.

"So, this is my proposal. I'll stall insurance for as long as possible, and you keep pretending you're eighteen, if you could- I've hidden your files as far back into the system as I can get it; you're damn lucky I'm the only nurse treating you and Sam. It'll take anyone who thinks too look few hours of cross-checking before they find anything – and keep Sam in here for as long as you can. In return, stop looking at me like I'm a God damn Barbie doll, and get back into bed!"

Dean could have kissed here there and then. He grinned his real grin, the one usually reserved for Sam, and nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you, thank you so much, lady," he yipped, turning to his bed and ripping out his I.V.

"Hey, this wasn't part of the de-"

"You said Sam's been asking for me? Well, I can't refuse that," he said, tugging out the other leads to the monitors, "could ya' get me my clothes? Thanks."

"It's Jennifer," she mumbled, stepping to the cabinet close to the door and pulling out the clear plastic bag of his belongings. "A family dropped off your stuff from the beach, same guys that called the search and rescue-"

Dean snapped up. "What? Who?"

She shrugged, throwing the bag onto the bed. "C'mon, I'll take you to Sam. I'm going to get your antibiotics and pain meds; those stitches are looking a little red still," she said, nodding at Dean's arm.

Dean said nothing as he pawed through the bag, pulling out the threadbare towels, his wallet, his own sweatshirt he'd left with Sam on that day, his torn t-shirt, washed shorts and trainers.

He felt his resolve crumble as he pulled out Sam's tiny shirt and trainers. God, he forgot how little, how vulnerable his brother was. He'd left him on the beach for hours, all alone and out of sight. And he'd nearly _died _out there.

He had died. For a minute at least.

He felt a lump rise in his throat and coughed it away. "I'll get changed."

The door clicked softly as Jennifer left the room, leaving Dean to wallow in his guilt, his brother's tear stained shirt still clutched in his fists.

oOoOoOoOo

"Pneumonia?"

"Respiratory Pneumonia," Jennifer corrected, standing behind Dean as he stared down at the pale figure, swamped by the bed he lay in. "He collapsed in the ambulance and they recognized it straight away; thanks to you telling them about him getting water into his lungs, they could give him the antibiotics," she smiled.

Dean couldn't take in her words. eHis brother

His brother, his Sammy, was here because of him. No words could change that. "Why's he sleeping?"

"Just tired; Dean, don't worry, he's okay. A low-grade fever overnight, that was the worst of it. He's been awake a few times, but we've been keeping him dosed up on pain meds."

Dean whipped his head around. "Why's he hurting?"

"Just his arm, he caught it on the rocks and it got infected, just like yours."

Dean nodded. "Okay."

Jennifer sighed, reaching a hand to his shoulder. Ignoring his flinch, she spoke comfortingly. "Dean, you saved him. Your body heat stopped you both from developing hypothermia, which is a miracle I can tell you that. It was you who resuscitated him, and it was you who swam out in the first place. You're a hero, kid."

Dean shook his head. "I'm no hero," he mumbled.

Jennifer sighed. "I'll leave you alone. Call if you need anything," she said, bouncing from the room, her flowery perfume leaving a trail of scent in her wake.

Dean cocked his head as he looked at Sam's little face, the mask that covered it fogging and then clearing rhythmically with his breathing.

He walked silently to one side of the bed, the side clear of monitors and leads and screens and scary things, pulling the plastic garden chair underneath him as he collapsed into it.

"Hey, Sammy," he said quietly, eyes running up and down the thin figure in the blankets. He noticed the bandaged arm and winced, wondering if his brother was in as much pain as he was. There were dark, angry bruises that stained his uncovered arms, no doubt from the minefield of rock pools they'd floated into. "Damn, we really messed up this time, huh?"

Dean reached out his own sweating hand for Sam's shrunken version, clutching the cool fingers tightly. Tears stung his eyes as he spoke shakily. "God, I'm so sorry, Sammy. I'm so damn sorry."

Still, Sam lay unresponsive in his subconscious. Dean laughed soullessly, ducking his head as tears threatened to fall. "I shouldn't have left you there, all by yourself. God knows what coulda got you… Probably got pretty bored too, huh?"

The only sign of life coming from his brother was the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Dean gripped tighter the little hand which he held. "Why did you go into the water, Sammy?" he whispered, leaning forward so his elbows rested on the mattress. "Why didn't you listen to me? I told you not to go near it. You can't swim, for fuck's sake!" He slapped his free hand on the bedding, desperate to vent his frustration on something, only regretting it instantly.

He winced at his own harsh words. Wrapping his other hand around Sam's, he said, "I guess that's my fault too though, huh? Should have gotten you into lessons, or tried to get Dad to teach you."

He rested his forehead on his hands. "Please, just wake up for me," he begged, his voice cracking. "You don't expect me to sleep on this piece of crap chair for too long, do ya'?"

Dean sighed as no response came, his own eyes sliding closed. "Wake up, Sammy. Please."

oOoOoOoOo

"D-Dea-Dean?"

Dean stirred slowly, nuzzling his face onto his own shoulder which, if his neck was correct, he'd slept on for a long time.

"Dean, s'at you?"

Dean snapped his eyes open, looking blindly around the room for a second. Eventually, his eyes came to rest on his little brother, staring tiredly up at him, his body sagging as he tried to pull himself up, the oxygen mask tossed to one side. "Sammy?" he gasped, lip quivering. He wrenched the hood of his sweatshirt off his head and threw off the blanket that had been draped around his shoulders. He launched to Sam's bedside, gently helping him to sit up. "Woah there cowboy, let's take it easy, huh?"

Sam nodded, allowing himself to relax into his brother's hold. "W-water?"

Dean tensed, remembering Sam ask for the same nothing out there. "Sure, buddy." He reached out for the plastic cup that was set beside him, gently guiding it to Sam's lips. "Slowly, little brother."

He sipped gently at the cool liquid, looking up at Dean for approval, before pulling away. "Thanks," he smiled, falling back into the pillows.

Dean pulled the chair closer to the bedside, and reclaimed his grip on his brothers' hand. "How you feelin'?"

"I'm okay. 'Bout you? They said you had a concussion, and you had stitches-"he garbled, his breathing speeding up and monitors whirring in protest.

"I'm fine, I'm okay; calm down, Sammy," Dean coached, slowing his own breathing in the hope his brother would follow on.

Sam nodded. They remained quiet for a second before the youngest spoke up again.

"Dean?"

Dean's gaze never left his brother as he monitored his facial expressions, watching for any giveaway emotions that may have emerged. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah… I'm sorry."

Dean crinkled his brow. "For what?"

"For going out to the sea. For not listening. For not waiting. For getting you hurt…" the machines starting wailing again.

"Sam, relax. Calm down, please. It's okay, it's okay, I promise," he comforted automatically, "I'm not mad, I'm not mad at all. Look at me, kid."

Sam finally glanced up, eyes filled with fear. "I heard you earlier. I thought you were mad."

Dean frowned, then laughed coldly as he realized what he'd heard.

"_Why did you go into the water, Sammy? Why didn't you listen to me? I told you not to go near it. You can't swim, for fuck's sake!"_

"Jesus, Sam, you were awake?" Dean asked guiltily.

"No! No, I was like half-half, ya' know? Like, half asleep, and you don't know if it's real or not," Sam assured.

"That's all you heard?"

Sam shook his head, then pulled himself up again, not resisting as Dean leaned in to help. He latched onto Dean's arm, forcing him to look into his eyes. "I don't blame you, Dean. It's not your fault," he said simply, his eyes boring into his big brother's.

And just like that, Dean felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders. Only his little brother made him feel this loved, as if the kid adored him unconditionally. Dean coughed as emotion threatened to spill over his words. "You remember what happened out there?"

"No," came the quick reply.

"Good."

Sam looked up. "But thanks, Dean. You know, for saving me."

"S'okay. Just my job; take care of my pain in the ass little brother," Dean grinned.

Sam smiled back, eyes slipping shut as the short few minutes he'd been awake seemed to take their toll. "I owe you one, Dean."

"Too right," Dean smiled, running a hand through Sam's long hair as the kid fell back to sleep.

As he watched his Sammy sleep, nothing mattered. Hunting, cars, dad, music, insurance, ripped shirts or money were all cast aside as content washed through Dean. And even as Jennifer hurried into their room late that night, pushing Dean with Sam in his arms towards the exit, talking quickly about cops and CPS and scams and God knows what, he didn't care.

Sam was safe, Dean was happy. And for all it was worth, he felt he'd done okay that day. Tomorrow was another story; he'd have to call dad, and get the car, and get-the-hell-outta-Dodge. But right now, as his baby brother lay curled into his side, the little white bag of prescription medicines in his lap, and Sam's forgiveness coating his state of mind in white icing.

Tomorrow could wait.

Today, he'd done okay.

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

**Some nice little sap there to sugar coat your Monday! :) **

**For anyone who was wondering; I just couldn't put John in here. I love the man to bits, despite what I may write about him, but I wanted this to stick more to Sam n' Dean, because I'm a twat, :) if you want, I can put an alternative ending. Let me know. **

**I know my medical knowledge is non-existent, and to find a nurse like Jennifer would be like finding that needle in that haystack- you know the one I'm talking about – but c'mon, let the boys be at peace for once. **

**Reviews are love. **

**Poppy. **


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